Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 2.djvu/419

CANTO IV.] LXII.

Is of another temper, and I roam

By Thrasimene's lake, in the defiles

Fatal to Roman rashness, more at home;

For there the Carthaginian's warlike wiles

Come back before me, as his skill beguiles

The host between the mountains and the shore,

Where Courage falls in her despairing files,

And torrents, swoll'n to rivers with their gore,

Reek through the sultry plain, with legions scattered o'er.

LXIII.

Like to a forest felled by mountain winds;

And such the storm of battle on this day,

And such the frenzy, whose convulsion blinds

To all save Carnage, that, beneath the fray,

An Earthquake reeled unheededly away!N23

None felt stern Nature rocking at his feet,